Wishing for Neverland
by MelodyPond77
Summary: This is the story of how twelve year-old Mags Cresta won the 7th Hunger Games. Rated M for themes of growing up and woman's puberty.


**Authors Note: **_One, I don't own the Hunger Games. Never have, never will. Two, if the idea of a girl menstruating makes you at all squeamish, this probably isn't for you. _

_Now, for the story of exactly how this little plot bunny came to be. _

_I, like any other woman, have to go through this explicitly terrible process that comes with the general term "growing up". One day, as I was thinking about the Hunger Games and Mockingjay 2 and it's release date, the idea occurred to me: What did a female tribute do if she started her monthlies during the Games? I mean, she's in the wilderness, most likely without the proper supplies of any sort and surrounded by murderous teenagers and bloodlusting mutations. Not the best odds. _

_And then I thought, what would happen if one of the twelve year old champions had their very first period in the Games? For those readers who are female and have experienced this, most of you can agree that it's a really freaky thing and absolutely terrifying the first time it happens. Add in the stress of being in a battle to the death with 23 other competitors and... well, again, not the best odds. _

_So when I mentioned this idea to my fellow fanfictioner TheNextFolchart, we quickly created an idea that this girl would win just from the hormonal rage that usually accompanies these extremely painful times. _

_And, of course, who could we possibly choose other than Mags?_

_So, without further ado, this is the story of how Mags (I bequeathed her the surname Cresta, deciding that she is Annie's Great-Aunt of some sort) won her Hunger Games. _

_I do hope you enjoy, despite the oddity of this plotbunny._

_~ Melody_

* * *

"And here we are, with the winner of the 7th annual Hunger Games, Mags Cresta! This is a shock to all!" Antonio Flickerman swiveled in his chair, rocking back and forth nonchalantly as he regarded the twelve year old champion. "So, Mags, how does it feel to have won the Hunger Games?"

"Well... I... I guess I'm just glad to be alive," she whispered, but the microphone picked up her sound anyway and boomed it across the crowd. She winced. Everything here was too gaudy, too loud. She just wanted to be back in District Four with her family and her best friend, Andrew.

"Yes, of course you are. I'll be the first to admit, you weren't the favorite choice to win the Games. What brought you your victory? One moment you were doing your best to hide from the Career Pack and the next you were taking out tributes left and right."

Mags thought back to that fateful morning, seven or eight days into the Games, when everything had started.

"I started bleeding..."

* * *

Her mother always told her it would eventually happen, but she had never said how _messy _it could be.

Mags awoke to a wetness between her thighs, and, being utterly confused about what was going on, promptly slipped from her precarious balance in her tree. The sharp tug of her safety lines shook her entirely awake, and she carefully untangled herself from her bed in the trees, slipping down the trunk to solid ground.

The moment she stood straight, however, a crippling pain shot across her abdomen, causing her to double up and fall to her knees. She felt nauseated from it, and she could barely reach into her pack to down the last few drops of water in her canteen.

She wouldn't last much longer if this continued.

Cursing mentally, she looked around for something to ease the pain. She was certain what this was; her mother said she would be a woman soon, but she didn't think it would happen in the arena.

What shitty luck.

"Pricella, if there are any sponser gifts out there, dear god send me something for menstration," she grunted, knowing her female mentor would know exactly what was going on. For now, she'd have to think about what she'd learned in the plant section of her training.

Stumbling to her feet, Mags set off. Now that she was moving, the pain wasn't as bad as she thought, only uncomfortable. A quick wad of clean grass absorbed the excess blood and kept it from running down her legs, and she was soon moving quickly, in search of the herbs that would relieve her pain.

She had just finished eating the black yew when she heard them. The Career Pack.

* * *

"So, how did you feel when you realized your former allies were coming back to kill you?" Flickerman said, leaning forward. His violet eyes, clearly covered by contact lenses, sparkled with amusement. He, unlike so many of the boys in her district, was completely at ease with the idea of a twelve year-old girl winning the Games due to menstruation-induced rage. He surreptitiously fluffed his hair as he motioned for he to go on.

"I was angry. So, so, very angry. It was an anger I had never felt before..."

* * *

The blinding pain was gone when the four Careers entered her little clearing, grinning wide eyed as they surveyed their prey. In their eyes, they saw a weak, little twelve year-old girl, with naught but a fishing knife and a small trident in hand.

This little sprite couldn't hurt a fly, not intentionally, they underestimated, and it was this underestimation that heralded their downfall.

It was a bloodbath worthy of the Cornucopia. The once beautiful clearing, heady with intoxicating flowers and sweet grasses now rang with the clash of metal upon metal and the screams of the dying. The lush grasses grew slick with blood as guts spilled from deep cuts inflicted across their abdomens. The blood burned red in Mags' vision, tinting everything and riding an emotional tide of red, hot anger, thick as the blood that spilled from each member of the battle.

_I will make them bleed as painfully as I do now, _Mags thought, and she fought on until each Career's last sight was the mad glint in her eyes.

_Boom._

_Boom._

_Boom._

_Boom._

Luxury, District 1.

Lush, District 1.

Slate, District 2.

and her own partner, Matthew Odair.

District 4.

* * *

Antonio Flickerman was silent for a moment as Mags whispered the _booms _of the canon under her breath, lost in another time, another memory.

"We've all seen the footage, everyone. But now, hearing it from our very own victor, Mags Cresta, it's another truth entirely. Sometimes, the best surprises come from even the smallest of women," he said, looking at the small girl in the simple, sea-blue victory dress appraisingly.

And as the Capital went wild for their victor, Mags couldn't help wishing that she never had to grow up.


End file.
